I chuckled. “Youasked for it.”
“What’s the deal?”
“Just didn’t sleep.Thestorm kept me up.”
“Bullshit.”
“What’s it to you?”Iasked as we made our way to the kitchen to raid the coffee pot and the spoils of whatever was left from the last shift.Fromthe looks of it, some belovedCedarIslandcitizen had brought us doughnuts fromErnie’s.
Hopefully, he had changed out the grease before frying them.Thelast thingIwanted at seven in the morning was a vanilla cream doughnut that tasted like mackerel and hushpuppies.
I went with a plain glazed doughnut.Therewas something unsettling about the thought of custard filling laced with seafood.
Luck was on my side.Itwas still warm.Themalty, buttery doughnut coated in sweet vanilla glaze was the pick-me-upIneeded after a restless night.
“Spill,”Drewsaid around a mouthful of vanilla filling.
I inhaled the rest of the doughnut and pocketed a protein bar for later.Chanceswere, we wouldn’t be around the station for meals today.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, dude.Ijust didn’t sleep.”Iturned on the kitchen sink and washed the sugar off my fingers.
“What was the neighbor up to last night?”
I didn’t answer.
Drew grinned. “Ahh.Thereit is.Soyou were getting right with the otherWhitlock.”
“Her name isAurora.Not‘the otherWhitlock,’”Iclipped.
Drew lifted his hands in surrender. “Iget it.You’reprotective over your summertimer.Noworries, man.She’sall yours.”
I hated thinking ofAuroralike that.Shewas way fucking more than that, whetherIwanted to admit it or not.
“She’s not my summertimer.”
WhenIhad asked her for “more” in the middle of our heated makeout session on the couch, my mouth nearly went numb.Ihad never wanted more.Infact,Ialways wanted whatDrewdid—no strings and a good time.
EverythingItoldAurorawas the truth.Icouldn’t handle attachment.Icouldn’t deal with the weight and responsibility of loving someone, knowingImight not be able to save them if the worst happened.
But she had marked me like the brand on the floorboard of her house.Itwas the scarlet letter scarred on my skin.Itwas the signet she had used to claim me whileIwas none the wiser.Ibore it willingly, like a lovesick court jester, vying for a fleeting moment of the queen’s attention.
“Sure, dude,”Drewsaid as he patted my back and headed out of the kitchen. “Keeptelling yourself that.”
Tones dropped before he had made it through the door.Bodiesthundered down the stairs as we jumped into our turnouts and loaded into the rig.Dispatchrelayed the location of a downed tree turned motor vehicle versus motor vehicle.Theringer was that power lines were down and electricity was arcing in the torrent.
The engine came to a screeching halt at a precarious intersection.Carswere starting to line up from both sides of the scene.Impatientdrivers poked their noses out to see if they could get around the mess.
“Drew.Workwith the deputies to set the perimeter,” our captain barked. “Wharton.You’releading the extract.”
We geared up as the rest of the orders were given for debris removal.Theutility company was already on the way out to cut the lines, but that didn’t make the situation any less dire.Amotorist was trapped.EMSwas en route, but they were coming from the hospital inMoreheadCityand were at least a half-hour away.Forthe time being, we were on our own.
Guys grabbed fiberglass poles off the rig to move the live wires without getting electrocuted by using the hook on the end.
“Whoa—”Igrabbed the back ofDrew’sturnout coat right before he stepped into a puddle.Alive wire was on the opposite side, sparking and jolting.Ametal shard was just outside the water.Igrabbed one of the pike poles and pushed the piece into the puddle.
In the haze of steam, fog, and smoke, electricity arced from the puddle to the metal.
“Shit,”Drewmuttered as he watched the sparks appear out of nowhere.
